“You’re An Asshole!”

“Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy”

I should make it clear right at the start of this blog post that the person who was being accused of being an asshole was ME!

Of course, you know from reading my blog that such a description could never be applied to me ….ahem, however, a while back I had somehow managed to get my name on an “idiot” list of people who could be called about various scams and “investments”.

I suspect that one of those companies that would never sell your details, sold my details.

Well, as an unwanted consequence, I had cold callers by the square yard for a while.

Oil was the thing to be in.

No, it was commodities futures.

Had I invested in ETFs?

No, wait,  currency trading was far better.

Nope colored diamonds was even better than that.

Shale oil, natural gas, copper reserves, opal mines……

And on and on and on and on it went for several months.

getting cold called
getting cold called

At the start I listened politely. I’ve had to cold call people on a few occasions myself and I know what a horrible job it is, so I answered their inane questions, pretended I was vaguely interested in what they had to say, but eventually declined all their more than generous offers.

Man, if only I had done a few of those investments I would have been richer than Bill Gates by now – or broke a lot faster!

But as the weeks went on, a bit like the telemarketers I wrote about in the cunningly named “Telemarketers”,  my patience ran out. I started to say up front that I wasn’t interested and couldn’t afford it and if they couldn’t take that hint, I hung up.

However there was one particularly unpleasant young guy who worked for an investment brokerage in New York. He probably had never made it farther than Manhattan in his life, but he was an authority about everything, about everything, about everything. You know the type. And like most people so endowed he actually knew hardly anything at all.

So one day he phoned me up. I must have been at a bit of a lose end (before my blogging days!) so I listened to what he had to say. He had spoken to me before, but didn’t remember, so I knew his patter and what was coming and therefore was well prepared with my answers.

Was I interested in investing? Yes, absolutely.

Had I ever invested in the stock market before? Yes, indeed I had.

Had I any stocks at the moment? Well, no, not at the moment. I’ve been waiting on a “really great deal” to come along.

Of course, I knew he had a “really great deal”.

“Terrific!” he said. “Because I am about to offer you a really great deal!”

Am I psychic or what?

I have a great deal for you!
I have a great deal for you!

 

Naturally I got a little excited at this wonderful news and wanted more details, like pronto!

Ah, but first he had a bit on his cold call sheet to quality investors.

What kind of amount was I comfortable with? How much did I normally invest?

I knew this would be where the fun would really start. So I said that it depended on the deal, if it was good enough then it could be a decent amount.

That wasn’t good enough. He wanted to quantify it.

“Would you be comfortable with something in the $5000 range?” he asked.

“Not really,” I said, then hearing him deflate on the other end of the phone I followed with, “No, if I’m interested, and there’s no guarantee that I am because you haven’t told me anything about this investment, it would have to be a much bigger amount than that.”

Almost immediately I could hear the vacuum pump activating and re-inflating him.

Now he was sure he had hooked a whale, but tugging on his line was just the big bunch of crap I was giving him.

Then he told me what the investment was. Some pharmaceutical company that was about to go into orbit once a new drug they were working had been perfected and FDA approved and all that rigmarole.

If you don’t know about these things, firms like these who cold call hyping some obscure share or other are on a BIG percentage of the price they get. Could be as high as 75% in some cases. The shares are usually completely worthless and virtually unsaleable on the open market so if you are foolish enough to buy them you are stuck with them and the chances of the company coming good are millions to one. Better to buy a few lottery tickets.

So he could do me a great deal on these shares. They had been trading at up to 90 cents a few months ago (I presumed on IMDAQ, that’s the imaginary stock exchange) but his company had managed to secure some at a fraction of that price. If I were to invest say $50,000 I could get them at 30 cents.

Boy was I interested?

No, not in the slightest, but I didn’t tell him that.

What I said was something like, “Yeah that sounds okay, but for that level of investment is that really the best you could do. What if I could get a few friends interested and maybe raise $100,000? Could you sweeten the deal on your end?”

I got the feeling that this was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to this idiot. He could hardly contain himself.

He talked and he talked and he better talked.

Unsurprisingly he could sweeten the price a little for that level of investment and the price duly came down to 25 cents per share.

I wasn’t very impressed. I asked for a better deal.

This time he would have to consult his supervisor to see if he could get a better deal on the share price, so the line went dead for a couple of minutes (a well known sales ploy) and then back he came, 23 cents was the best he could do.

“So that’s 434,782 shares for the $100,000?” I asked. Our calculators agreed the number.

“It’s good,” I told him, “But for that sort of cash I would need at least half a million shares, probably more.”

“Let’s not play games,” he said, ready to make another counter offer.

“Why not?” I asked. “I like playing games.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah!”

“You like playing games?” he asked, a little confused.

The penny was very close to the edge but it hadn’t quite dropped.

“Yeah, don’t you?” I answered happily. “This has been fun.”

“What?

…..WTF?

…..You mean you’re NOT interested?”

 

“Well I did say up front that there were no guarantees,” I reminded him.

 

“But?….  Why did….? ….”

Short pause.

Silence.

Sound of penny finally dropping.

Then, in a very high pitch girly kind of voice,

angry and shrieking like a girl
angry and shrieking like a girl

“You’re a f****** asshole!”

CLICK!!!

He was great fun. But, alas, he didn’t want to play any more because he never called again ;(

 

Have fun with your next cold caller!

 

 

Telemarketers!!!

“Fight Against Stupidity And Bureaucracy”

 

One of the bane’s of modern existence has to be telemarketers.

It’s a job, I suppose and everybody is entitled to earn a living.

But, like email spam, it is the quantity that gets to people and makes us angry. If we only got a telemarketing call now and again nobody would take umbrage, but getting them three or four times a week, and in some cases three or four times a day, it’s just too much for a body to take.

The cel phone companies used to be the worst offenders. They employed call centers in India or the Philippines or elsewhere, paid them a pittance and gave them a list of cel phone subscribers. And they called and they called and they called.

Maybe you’ve heard of the seven deadly sins or the seven ways to happiness. Well thanks to telemarketers I discovered that there are also seven phases that most people go through when this torture is inflicted upon them.

 

Phase 1 is the polite phase, when you take the call and politely decline their offer (that is, if you haven’t been conned into buying something).

 

Phase 2 is the not so polite phase, when you take the call and not so politely decline their offer.

 

Phase 3 is the beginning to get really irritated phase, when your politeness has all been used up.

 

Phase 4 is the angry phase, where you’ve switched completely from politeness to anger and mildly abusive replies.

 

Phase 5 is the very angry phase, where you shout and question both the intelligence and parentage of the unfortunate telemarketer on the other end of the phone.

 

Phase 6 is the just plain rude phase, this is the one where, if you had a beep machine, it would be working overtime and then some.

 

And finally there is Phase 7 which is the phase where you say nothing at all and just hang up.

 

 

If telemarketers calls are a persistent problem you often find yourself going from Phase 1 to Phase 4 within the same sentence. And occasionally you just answer the phone in Phase 6 mode, which is unfortunate if it’s just your old Auntie Mabel on the other end of the line.

But there is it.

Of course there is another way of doing it as a fellow called Tom Mabe demonstrated. I think his way is much better, certainly funnier. Have a listen – and I apologise profusely about the two idiots cackling and chuckling in the background. They’re almost as irritating as a telemarketing call, but their contribution was beyond my control.

As always, enjoy.